💾 Archived View for cosmic.voyage › Stormsong › log002.txt captured on 2024-08-31 at 12:50:19.
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= Contemplation for the Day =
= He sees our World as a Grain of Sand, =
= and the Heavens in a Wild Flower. =
= To hold Infinity in the palm of my hand, =
= and whitness Eternity in a hour. =
= "Heaven in a Wild Flower" - Bill Douglas =
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Preliminary statements : Commerce Station Stormsong
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Raw Station Statistics show what my education and experiance would
classify as a Citadel Class station. That is; eight levels for
specialist tasks, a level dedicated for the station's energy
production, and a level that branches into four detatchable
segments, oft used for the station's food production, or as
recreation space for inhabitants, and a heavily defended bridge
module.
Currently on level Five, the flight deck. Internal security has
been disabled as per my instructions to the station's computers
when I took control. As I walk, exploring this place, I am struck
by just how clean this place looks. No signs of struggle. No
signs of battle or conflict. It is as if the crew ... Left.
The station itself is a mystery I am ill equipped to solve. the
[Skeleton key] program I had used to gain administrative access
should have required a series of challenge/responses between
myself, and the station's computer. Yet I found no resistance. So
far no traps. No sudden lockdown with hidden weapons or automated
defenders attacking my craft. All is silent.
Flight Deck : Initial Observations : Docking Bay
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Background hum of Station activity consistant with known examples
of normal station activity. No craft other than mine visible.
Manifests show that Stormsong should have twenty ground to orbit
capible shuttlecraft, two craft capible of in-system travel, and
space enough for five extra solar craft to fit comofrtably or,
twice that many of the above craft if taking on emergancy traffic.
Yet, there is nothing here. Security feeds, docking manifests,
and visual inspection agree that the only craft docked here is my
craft. Emotional regulation upgraded from background process to
active priority. Not enough information to form useful opinions.
Flight Deck : Initial Observations : Mantinance Storage
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My travel through sections indicated by station mapping as
parts storage and equipment has been enlightening. Manual
inspection shows enough parts to, with time and effort, build
an extra-solar capible craft assuming drive components from
my craft were transposed onto the resulting superstructure.
Barring that, avalible inventory gives me a very competent
in-system craft with limited ability to land on/take off
from terrestrial type worlds. Of which this system contains
three major terrestrial planets, three hundred bodies that
have been rounded by gravitation but are either moons, or
share orbitals, and these figures do not includethe oort
cloud, cometary, or other long period solid bodies.
This does not solve the mystery of where station occupants
disappeared to, but it is useful to know that there are tools
and options avalible if I need to augment my accomodations.
As my implants siphon local systems of manifests, crew logs,
or other QEC friendly documentation I take time to compose a
message to a fellow traveler chosen at simi-random from the
list of recently archived log files on the major network.
Parts and equipment manifests are encouraging, and limited
manual inspection shows that it is not entirely made of
data phantoms. I am holdingoff on a full inspection until
I finish inspection of this deck.
Flight Deck : Initial Observations : Shift Crew quarters
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Most would probably conclude the bunch rooms to be overly
cramped. Wall alcoves three bunks high, wich a footlocker at
the foot of each, and a further nich inset for personal items
the bunk's designated occupant will want access to. Two long
walls with these accomidations. the narrow wall opposit the
primary entry reserved for communal storage, and a large rack
in the middle of the room that contains a double row of bunks
in the same configuration as those in the wall.
This feels familiar to me, as this bunking arrangement is
on rough parity with what my order's [Monastary/Fortress]
[Data Temple] offered. More wouldh ave been a distraction.
Less would have introduced its own issues.
Naturally the duty officer's and guest quarters are more
in line with expected norms for those hoping for a place
of privacy either due to rank, or hoping to streach after
a long trip. I suppose they might still be thought of as
spartan judging by the lack of ornimentation, but I see
many potentials for personal project space as opposed to
cluttering any of the machine shops with such items.
More logs to inload. More manifests to inspect.
This was a place of life. These were people who went
about their time here living and working. Sudden
cut off date. The same date keeps repeating enough that
I refuse to view it as anything other than when those
here went missing. yet there is no talk of disaster. No
impending danger everyone feared. It was as if everyone
suddenly dropped off the station's sensor feeds with no
sign or struggle.
Flight Deck : Initial Observations : Misc
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I have instructed my ship to keep warmed up to the point of
only needing an abbreviated start sequence before leaving.
Mostly because I do not want to be wholly reliant on this
place in the event it turns nasty.
The crew on this level seemed to love their games. there are
so many handheld gaming-centric tablets scattered. So many
wanting to trade this or that. Stock simulators? Betting?
I cannot yet make sense of this. Non-zero chance of it being
real trades and I simply lack economic context. Mystery for
later I suppose.
Closing Thoughts
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I have taken residence in sector Seven Gee for the moment.
While one might expect me to take residence in the officer's
quarters as opposed to the bunks? The bunks feel more in
line with what I find mental reassurance in.
My ship has been taking scans of its own and so far I am
still alone as far as it or myself can tell. If that does
change, I hope it changes soon enough that I do not get too
wrapped up in what I would do with a space station of my
own.
Great Maker aid in keeping my ego in check and my wants few.
[EOL]